


Like The Start Of Every Good Fairy Tale

by LonelyBlueWolf



Category: Tales of Graces
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pointlessness, RichAss if you squint, Short Story, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:07:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1262317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyBlueWolf/pseuds/LonelyBlueWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt by RydiaAsuka. - 'Barrel'</p>
<p>Richard likes to read about adventures. But is reading ever really enough for anyone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like The Start Of Every Good Fairy Tale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RydiaAsuka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RydiaAsuka/gifts), [Nienna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nienna/gifts).



> Title may change; naming shorts is hard when you're not used to actually publishing them! :o  
> (This started as a drabble, but apparently I don't know how to write short things. Because words.)
> 
> Also, unbeta'd, and written up at 5am. So please excuse any spelling or grammatical errors D:
> 
> Anyways, I felt like writing a RichAss drabble, asked Mama for a prompt, and this is what I got. :') Soo, here ya go mama; a gift of pointless Richard PoV drabble to brighten up your midterms!
> 
> Also to Nienna, who asked me to publish some of my RichAss work; have an all new one to look at! :3
> 
> If anyone has any other prompts, please don't hesitate to let me know. Not that I'm expecting any, but.. yeah XD

# Like The Start Of Every Good Fairy Tale

 

Richard had never been particularly the boisterous sort as a child; more the type to sit quietly in a corner with a book than anything. In fact, the young prince loved books. There was nothing more fascinating to him than to read about the various exploits of heroes from times gone by; heroes both fact and fiction. their lives were so full of intrigue, adventure. Things that, since his return from Lhant, Richard's own life had been severely lacking. One could even go as far as to say that the young prince lived _through_  his books.

 

This fact did little to change as the boy aged. Indeed, if anything, his thirst for lyrical adventure had merely deepened further still. His own taste of terrifying endangerment, whilst short lived, had opened the prince's own eyes to the possibilities surrounding him within a world he had previously thought to be dull and limited.

 

However, there was only so much thirst that the written world could satiate, and it was inevitable that the boy would find himself craving far more than any book could offer. Adventure alone was all well and good.. but it rang hollow without those accompaniments that come all so naturally to the heroes in the books. After all, what was an adventurer's purpose without companionship? Without romance? Without that spark of magic that came from fighting for a noble cause?

 

And so, the young prince found himself tempting fate all the more as frequently as he could; hiding his identity beneath a thinly veiled disguise, sneaking outside of the palace grounds to mingle amongst the people of the city. _His_ people. Although he never left the safety of the city limits, the thrill of the unknown was still there, the constant fear of recognition that caused the boy's pulse to quicken.

 

All too soon, however, this too no longer seemed to be enough to fulfil the prince's restless mind. There seemed to still be something missing; something that he just could not quite put his finger on no matter how hard he tried.

 

It was whilst the troubled noble was pondering this that he all too late heard the frantic cries of warning from somewhere close by.

 

Turning curiously and confusedly in the direction of the sound, the prince found himself all but frozen at the sight of a large barrel toppling toward him. There was barely time to register the situation, much less act, when all of a sudden the noble found himself barrelled over the ground and out of the path of danger, strong arms trapping him into a warm embrace.

 

Hesitantly cracking open amber eyes that he had not even realised had closed during the altercation, Richard, found himself gazing down into a sea of brilliant blue, interrupted at intervals by wayward strands of mahogany. And all at once, he knew what he had been missing all along.

 

...After all, what prince did not need his very own knight?

 


End file.
